Proverbs 20:5 says: “A person’s thoughts are like water in a deep well, but someone with insight can draw them out.”

Last night at 61^st Avenue UMC, I experienced refreshment from the deep wells of the homeless and those living in poverty. A quickly-put-together Bible study was the cup to draw out these insights. Going through various emotions, I invited participants to share the scriptures that give them comfort when they’re afraid, peace when they are anxious, assurance when there’s doubt, etc.

Steven walked into the room after we had already gotten started. A young man with shades and a hat on, I assumed he might sit there with skepticism and not participate. But when I asked the group which scriptures they go to when they are anxious, he quickly recited the passage from Isaiah 41:10:

“Don’t be afraid, because I am with you. Don’t be intimidated: I am your God. I will strengthen you. I will help you. I will support you with my victorious right hand.”

Time after time he confronted my assumptions, sharing among strangers his search, his struggle and the respite in scriptures he had found. Had I passed him by on the street outside the sacred walls of this little church, I never would have imagined the depth of spiritual searching and knowledge that dwelled inside him. I would have missed out on one of God’s Images…the Imago Dei within him.

Charles Dickens wrote about Kit in The Old Curiosity Shop: “Thank Heaven that the temples of such spirits are not made with hands, and that they may be even more worthily hung with poor patchwork than with purple and fine linen!” While our eyes revere those made of “purple and fine linen” sometimes the finest gifts can be found in those we’d quickly pass by.

My prayer is that my eyes become like God’s – looking upon humanity from the heart, not just the outer appearance. I just don’t want to miss out on the joy of finding such unexpected treasure.

It was a baptism of sorts.

The rain last Saturday morning was torrential as Jerry and Karren left the motel where they’ve been staying to move into a house apartment. Driving up to the motel, I found them sitting outside with all of their belongings, waiting for me and Robby to arrive. Most of their things fit into my Honda Civic – we loaded their belongings and drove off to their new home.

The rain did not let up, reminding me of Costa Rica’s rainy season and the mission trip I took in 2003. Each afternoon, the team would stop for a while as the rains poured down, but that one day we kept working. Loading dirt and rock into the wheelbarrow, we kept moving to mix cement in the ground and make a floor for the new Sunday school building. It’s natural to resist getting rained on…to run for shelter…to shudder at the first drops falling upon you. But that day, we all just embraced it, laughing as we got soaked and continuing the work for which we came. The preacher and his wife, their small daughter, the foreman and other workers were shocked. When we left the small community, some of them spoke about that day and what it meant to watch us working through the rain.

Baptism brings one into community – making visible the need for that person in Life’s Circle … to complete the great connection. Duane Clinker said that baptism should be public because it is a “coming out as a follower of Christ.” Rain is a very public thing…filling ponds and creeks and rivers…filling potholes in neighborhood streets for children to splash and play in. Rain, as baptismal waters, ushered Jerry & Karren into a new community that day with possibilities of new life. From their isolation on the streets, to a motel room with constantly changing neighbors and now into a neighborhood where children play and roses grow, God’s grace is present…with mercies as new as the morning dew. It was a day of new beginnings.

Someone once told me

that our words should guide our actions. That what you say should really point to what you’re going to do. It’s easy to say you’re going to do something and never get around to it. Last week I learned just how important it is to do what you say you’re going to do.

Out at Tent City last fall, a young homeless man called "Ox" told me that he was a lifelong United Methodist – which church he belonged to – who his youth pastor was. Turns out, I know his youth pastor and thought that it’d be a good idea to call and let him know where one of his youth had landed. A couple of days later I followed through and called. Peter reflected about Ox’s troubled life and how he had ended up on the streets. The pastor thanked me for letting him know and said that he would go to Tent City to look for him. He did. Ox reconnected with him and others in the church – helping other homeless folk through Room in the Inn, and attending church regularly. When he didn’t show up that Sunday morning, people noticed. Later that day the pastor got a call from his brother saying that Ox had died.

Charles Dickens wrote in Oliver Twist: “There is no remorse so deep as that which is unavailing: to be spared its tortures, let us remember this in time.”

Following through on kind intentions can prevent unavailing remorse…I’m so thankful that procrastination did not rule the day I was to call Peter. I’m so thankful that a day’s interruptions did not block the path to Tent City for Peter. I’m so thankful that Grace paved a way between Ox and his faith community – that Mercy made the past surmountable and that the Love that never lets us go was palpable in Ox’s last days.

My friend Jerry said to me last night, “I know I’m not in control. It’s just a ride.” In the whole scheme of things – in the big picture of life, maybe we don’t have control. But over that which is within my reach, this is my prayer:

A Franciscan Benediction

May God bless us with discomfort at easy answers, half-truths, and superficial relationships, so that we may live deep within our hearts.

May God bless us with anger at injustice, oppression, and exploitation of people, so that we may work for justice, freedom and peace.

May God bless us with tears to shed for those who suffer from pain, rejection, starvation and war, so that we may reach out our hands to comfort them and turn their pain into joy.

And may God bless us with enough foolishness to believe that we can make a difference in this world, so that we can do what others claim cannot be done.